


XXX hot blonde squirts thru multiple orgasms for kinky sex doctor #magicwand #njoy #vibe #squirt #amateur

by one_irradiated_muppet



Series: Angela and Jamie Make a Porno [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Lots of Sex Toys, Sex Toys, but if you're not into that, here's your warning, it's acting, pretend dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-26 02:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16672687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_irradiated_muppet/pseuds/one_irradiated_muppet
Summary: First entry in the series "Angela and Jamie Make a Porno".





	XXX hot blonde squirts thru multiple orgasms for kinky sex doctor #magicwand #njoy #vibe #squirt #amateur

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ceia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceia/gifts).



> A naughty little gift fic for [Ceia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceia/pseuds/Ceia)! Check out her works if you're looking for more delicious mercyrat! :)
> 
> Please check the tags before reading, thank you!

 

It’s not clear that the video has started until rustling can be heard, demonstrating that the audio, at least, is working. A man clears his throat, then speaks.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure, Miss-- Mercy, wasn’t it?”

Another person clears their throat, a woman this time and much more pointedly. Silence stretches out, until the man laughs abruptly.

“Oh shit! Right, silly ol’ me. Sorry Ange--”

The camera can be heard whirring as shadows slide into view, contrasting the grey of the feed and proving that it is in fact recording. It focuses just in time to pick out the lines of what might   be fingers, if their colour and angles weren’t so off. They wrap around whatever’s blocking the camera’s view and lift it out of the way to reveal a coffee table, bare save for a mug. It was probably a mug which blocked the camera too.

Perched on a sofa across the coffee table is a young woman, the ‘Miss Mercy’ in question. She’s slim and fair skinned, blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail save for her side-swept fringe. She’s dressed professionally in a white button-up blouse and pale blue pencil skirt. Her gaze flicks to the camera - her eyes are the same blue - then back to the man across from her.

“That is correct, Doctor Junkenstein. I heard you were seeking aid with your work, and am hoping to be of some service.”

She speaks with a prim, precise Swiss-German accent. Considering the colourful Australian twang the man off camera sports, a name like ‘Junken _stein_ ’ sounds like it would befit her more. The Doctor, name fitting or not, lets out a hum of surprise.

“Well, ain’t it my lucky day!” He says in a sing-song manner before his tone darkens, implying a wry smirk on his as-of-yet unseen features. “But you know - my line of medicine ain’t exactly what you’d call conventional. You sure you don’t wanna look elsewhere?”

Mercy turns her face away, but the camera is perfectly placed to pick up the way she bites her lip, uncertain - but steeling herself.

“I had… heard talk. I mean you no insult, Doctor but my prior placement fell through at the last minute. I come to you in desperation.”

She looks back to him, her big blue eyes angled up imploringly.

“My grades will suffer terribly if I don’t complete a placement this term. Please Doctor Junkenstein, I want to become a Doctor more than anything… I’ll _do_ anything.”

After a long pause the Doctor lets out a throaty chuckle, one that’s anything but professional. But Mercy looks entirely, naively pleased as he accepts her request, breast heaving with a sigh and eyes filled with renewed hope.

“Alright, Miss Mercy. I’ll take ya. Let’s get right to work, shall we?”

 

The scene cuts to a hallway, motion blurring its walls until a door creaks open and the camera focuses on what’s within. Mercy has been stripped of her business-like clothes and wrapped in a paper hospital gown, cinched around her waist by its tie so that her breasts strain against it with every ragged breath she takes. Her restraints rattle as she struggles against them, where they tie her to what must have once been a dentist’s chair - or, no, judging by the stirrups her ankles are bound to, a gynecologist's. They’re laid low now so that she’s in repose, rather than with her legs hiked up and spread.

“You-- you monster!” She cries past the camera as it nears. “You said we’d be practicing medicine!”

“Oh but my dear Miss Mercy, we are!” Junkenstein coos gleefully from behind the lens. “I’ve got so many experiments to perform, and you’re the perfect test subject.”

Some of Mercy’s golden hair has fallen free from her ponytail, most likely as she fought with the Doctor before ending up so restrained. It hangs across her features and Junkenstein reaches from beyond the camera to stroke it from her brow, chuckling as she jerks away from his touch.

“Now now, I thought you said you were desperate?” He says sweetly, hand moving down to rub the plump mound of her breast through the gown.

“But never fear, my dear. You will be before we’re done.”

He cups her breast, rolling it and pinching her nipple between forefinger and thumb, moving onto the other until both are visibly peaked through the paper gown. There’s a sound as he shifts his grasp on the camera, so that it can capture as he leans in to suck on one of them. He has tan skin and sharp, freckled features, but they buckle in a groan as he suckles and laps, suffusing the paper gown with his spit until it’s dark, left clinging to her when he pulls off.

“Hmm, interesting,” he observes, teasing the wet patch with circles of his fingertip. His own sounds of hunger and that of his ministrations drowned Mercy out, but her short panting breaths can be heard clearly as he turns to camera to look up at her. She’s flushed, either with anger or reluctant arousal - or perhaps, more likely, both.

“What do you think of this result?” He asks smoothly and when she doesn’t respond, flicks her nipple teasingly.

“A-ah!” Mercy gasps, clenching her jaw before answering, the venom in her voice wavering.

“I think it m-means-- that you’re a scoundrel, and a pervert!”

Junkenstein barks out a laugh and the camera shakes.

“I think you’re right, Miss Mercy. How astute - we’ll make a doctor of you yet.”

The camera pulls back, and he settles it down where it can take in both of them, leaving his hands free. He’s wearing a long white doctor’s coat, the sleeves rolled up to reveal that one of his arms is prosthetic - which accounts for the strange look to his fingers in the earlier scene. He straddles one of Mercy’s legs, stroking his hands - flesh and construct alike - up her bare thighs.

“So many experiments to run, I barely know where to start” he coos, and Mercy jolts beneath his touch as his hands stroke higher, up beneath the thin cover of her gown. Their shapes can be seen as they rub over her hips and sides, down the smooth plane of her belly. Then without warning they grasp the gown from within, yanking open and shredding it like the paper it is. Mercy cries out in distress, but it’s soon swallowed up beneath Junkenstein’s moan of appreciation to see her laid bare. He tears the remnants out from beneath her then cups her breasts again, kneading them as he rolls his hips, grinding shamelessly against her thigh before his long body bends down toward her.

Mercy fights him at first, jerking her face away from his, but he soon reaches up to fix her in place to accept his kiss. There’s nothing gentle to the way he crushes his mouth to hers, devouring her lips and protests alike. When she gasps for air he forces his tongue inside and he doesn’t stop until she succumbs, supplicant, drained of her will to fight. The final kiss is soft, until he sucks her plump lower lip, dragging on it as he pulls away and releasing it with a wet pop.

“Good _girl_ ,” he praises her. “Are you sure you want to become a doctor? Wouldn’t it be much more exciting to stay here, my subject, forever?”

Mercy’s ragged breaths are her only reply.

Unphased, the Doctor leans back to drink in the sight of her again, as if pondering which part of her to test next. His hand strokes down, out of view of the camera, between her legs, and she lets out the tiniest of keens.

“Oh _yes_ , yes! This calls for a closer examination.”

Junkenstein steps away, around the side of the chair, and tugs a lever. The stirrups Mercy’s feet are bound to pop up and open, forcing her knees to bend and her legs to splay open. She cries out in shock, ankles and wrists rattling their restraints as she tries to salvage her dignity.

The Doctor cackles with glee, a bounce in his gait as he retrieves the camera and brings it to view the treat that lies between her legs. The only golden hair on her grows in a modest trail, ending just above her hood and leaving the rest of her smooth, her plump lips shamelessly displayed. Mercy herself is not without shame however - she squirms, hips writhing against the black leather padding of the chair.

“No! Please-- I-I’ll do anything, please don’t!”

“Haven’t I heard that somewhere before?” Junkenstein smirks, running a fingertip down the open crease of her thigh, then the other, teasing her by touching everywhere but where she fears.

“You _are_ doing anything, don’t you remember? Or at least, I am-- anything I want!”

He strokes his finger up between the lips of her cunt, gasping when they part to reveal glistening slick and a knowing laugh bubbling up from him.

“I see my experiments are already bearing fruit. And such tempting fruit it is,” he purrs, pinching her lips together to accentuate their swell and rolling them between his fingers when Mercy whimpers.

“But there’s no point sneaking a taste before it’s ripe. We can make it much juicier, can’t we pet?”

The angle shifts as Junkenstein reaches out of view. The Magic Wand buzzes to life before it’s even revealed to the camera and Mercy begins to whine softly, the tossing of her head out of focus where it’s visible past her spread thighs.

“Now now, it’s not even on you yet,” Junkenstein says, just audible beneath the sound, then presses it to her clit.

The effect is instant. Mercy’s hips jerk as she arches off the chair, a cry tearing from her, head tipped back to reveal her long, slim throat. The buzzing shifts in tone as Junkenstein rolls the bulbous head of the wand between her folds, butterflying them out prettily, their flush starkly contrasted against the white plastic. He drags it down and it catches the light as her slick smears over it, moan after unwilling moan pouring out of her once it’s settled back against her clit. Junkenstein is as merciless as he is exact, seeking out the spot, the position which makes her cries peak only to amp the vibrations up, and it’s not long before Mercy’s trembling terribly, arms and legs straining against her bonds as she reaches her first orgasm with a beautiful wail.

No doubt he could quickly drive her to another if he kept it there, but he pulls the wand away once she’s done, letting her go boneless against the chair. He switches it off so that her panting is the only sound to be heard, the camera holding its focus on the hungry throbbing of her cunt.

Junkenstein lifts the camera to settle on Mercy’s face, her cheeks flushed, hair clinging to her brow as she pants. Her eyes are lidded and heavy, but not yet glazed over with the delirium intended for her - and they snap open when Junkenstein speaks again.

“Shit, Ange. That was so hot I almost came in me coat--”

“Jamie!” She gasps, expression as scolding as one can be right after such an intense orgasm. Her gaze flicks from his to the camera, keen and controlled. “No names, remember? And you’re ruining the scene!”

Jamie giggles and Angela’s features soften into a smile as he leans in to kiss her tenderly.

“Sorry babe. It’s alright-- I’ll edit this bit out.”

He clears his throat and slips back into character.

“Very impressive, Miss Mercy. What a responsive test subject you’re proving to be! But we can do even better, don’t you think?”

The camera sweeps down An--Mercy’s body, showing the faint sheen which has risen on her skin as Junkenstein’s fingers stroke over it. As if unable to resist they pause at her breasts, tugging her nipples until she gasps and whines, his quiet tittering underscoring her reluctant pleasure. When the camera angles down, the front of his medical coat is visible between her legs, the bulge of his arousal obvious even through the thick material.

He reaches down to palm himself with a throaty groan, rocking his hips to grind his erection through the fabric into his hand. Then he stops as quickly as he began with a chuckle.

“Ah, there I go, getting distracted. So hard to stay impartial when my patient is so… captivating.”

Mercy snorts derisively, but Junkenstein doesn’t seem at all put off. He reaches out of sight again, this time bringing something long and metal into view. It’s a curved comma of stainless surgical steel, rounding out into a ball on each end with the largest appearing a little bigger than a golf ball. He rests it in his palm, jiggling it around a little to get its heft across to the camera, then holds it up to the lens. The camera’s reflection stretches out, fish-eyed in the polished, convex surface.

He strokes the larger end down between the crease of Mercy’s thigh and the outside of her lips, causing her to hiss.

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Junkenstein coos. “Like you, the metal may start out cold - but it will soon warm up!”

The sleek silver takes on a peachy hue as it nudges against her entrance, parting her lips with its swell. Junkenstein holds it there as Mercy squirms away from the chill steel, her movements enough to push some of her juices out to drip down the ball. Then it smears as Junkenstein slides the instrument in, her cunt stretching until it suddenly closes around it, swallowing it up as she cries out from the cold intrusion.

Off camera, Junkenstein makes a choked sound low in his throat, holding the wand in place so that the way it bulges Mercy’s lips is clear. He tugs it gently, testing how much pressure he can exert without it popping back out, before finally plunging it up and in.

“A-ah! D-Doctor!” Mercy cries out, cheeks clenching against the leather seat. The camera pulls back so that the angle of the wand is apparent, its curve snug between her lips so that the ball is pressed up against her g-spot. With easy rocks of the heavy steel he’s able to stroke smoothly upward, barely needing to apply any force yet clearly affecting great pleasure upon her.

“Yes, my Mercy? Do you favour this experiment?”

Her answering moan is high and strained, but the ones which follow are deeper, emanating from her core, the muscles of her thighs quivering as Junkenstein continues the rhythmic driving of the wand inside her. He moans too and it wavers, half a laugh.

“Who knew you’d become so wanton, only one experiment in?” He puts a little more effort behind the thrusting of the wand, and it must be pounding her g-spot now, his and its own weight behind it. The spaces between Mercy’s moans shorten until she’s whining even as she gasps for breath, thighs splaying as much as her bonds will allow, angling her hips up hungrily. Her rump barely seems to touch the leather pad beneath it, the little pucker of her ass clenching visibly between her cheeks. The camera picks up every sound as it slides in and out, the wet and hungry squelching and sucking of her cunt.

Mercy’s second orgasm seems to come as suddenly as the first - but with much more spectacle.

Her cries peak in volume and pitch before abruptly cutting off and in the silence that follows, her hips, her thighs quake and quiver as she squirts, milky fluid gushing out in waves from between her lips. It cascades down the sleek curve of the wand to drench Junkenstein’s hand and he gasps in surprise and delight as Mercy whimpers through her aftershocks.

“What an unexpected result! Miss Mercy, you _are_ a show-stopper.”

The camera jerks as he settles down onto his knees before her, focusing again on his mouth, this time hovering over her glistening cunt.

“And proving my hypothesis right once again… You have become _so_ much juicier.”

He’s still holding the wand inside Mercy as he licks between her lips, tonguing where her pulsing flesh hugs the metal. He laps until he’s cleaned all the juice from her then sucks at her clit, only stopping when she whimpers to the point of sobbing, and that’s when he pulls the wand free too.

“Delicious,” he purrs as her cunt visibly mourns its loss, gaping and clenching around the space it’s left. So he provides something else to fill it, burying his face between her swollen lips and shoving his tongue inside. He sounds like he’s being treated to a decadent feast, groans muffled as his jaw works up and down.

“D-Doctor,” Mercy whimpers above him, her voice drawn with exhaustion. “Please, I can’t take any more.”

Junkenstein pulls back with a hum, licking his lips before angling his gaze up her body.

“But there is still so much for you to take! Alright then, I’ll be merciful.” He smirks at his pun. “Can’t have you fading on me.”

He stands and places the camera down the same as before, freeing his hands to pick up a plastic cup of water. He stands beside Mercy and holds it to her lips, fingers stroking her throat as she swallows down a few gulps. When some spills to trickle down her chin he wipes it up for her; her breathing has steadied and the tremors which shook her have abated.

“There my dear, is that better?”

“Yes, Doctor, I…” Mercy looks up at him imploringly, perhaps emboldened by the tenderness he’s showing her. “ _Thank you_ , Doctor. For sharing your work with me. But I--”

“Oh Miss Mercy, you are so very _welcome_!” Junkenstein cuts her off loudly. He flings his arms out in grand gesture, the last of the water spilling as he crushes the plastic cup in his hand and lets it drop behind him.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to find such a responsive test subject as yourself. And perhaps, dare I say it, a like minded scientist?”

He leans down to kiss her cheek, stroking the hair from her brow and rubbing his hands along her arms, fingers massaging them where they’ve been held in the same position for so long. Mercy sighs, a touch of mirth battling the reluctance in her voice as she replies.

“I must admit, controversial as they are, your techniques bear… unexpected results.”

Junkenstein coos with pleasure at her answer, shoulders hunching with glee.

“Flattery will get you everywhere! And I haven’t even gotten hands-on yet! Here, look.”

He turns and produces a new toy, holding it between his hands like a cat’s cradle. It’s a little plastic device shaped not unlike a butterfly, suspended from four cords. Mercy opens her mouth to speak but before she can the Doctor has hopped back between her legs, an eager grin spread across his face as he presses it to her clit.

“Doctor Junkenstein!” She exclaims. “You said you’d let me rest!”

“And I did! But science waits for no man, my pet.”

He’s fastening the cords around her legs, tightening them before he grabs the camera again. Up close the vibrator looks even more like a butterfly, and sits snug against her folds - as is demonstrated when he pulls it and lets it snap back into place. Mercy squeals, and he chuckles as he takes the wireless remote in hand.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start out… slow.”

With a click the vibrator buzzes to life, but true to Junkenstein’s word the sound is muted and low, suggesting only the lightest setting has been selected. Mercy gives a quiet moan, thighs straining in an effort to close around it, whether out of shame or desire or a heady mixture of both.

“Oh you _do_ like that, don’t you?” The Doctor purrs, low like the vibrations which tease her. “And here you asked for _rest_. Your body tells what it wants, even if you can’t admit your desires!”

Junkenstein reaches up to press the remote into one of her hands, tone goading as he challenges her.

“Let’s see if you can give in to your needs, pet. I’ll let you set the pace of _this_ experiment.”

With his hand now free, the Doctor strokes and parts her lips for the camera. He slides a long, slim finger inside her straight to the knuckle, stroking it upward leisurely and coaxing Mercy to whine; when it comes to penetration, he always seems to know where to aim. Drawing it out again he shows the camera how slick it is with her juices, scissoring his fingers to show the way they cling between them before returning it - and the second - to the heat of her cunt. Something glistens into view from above, a thick tail of spit dangling down to ease their thrust, courtesy of the kind, ever considerate Doctor. As his fingers curl the buzzing of the vibrations kicks up a notch, and he chuckles darkly, the view blurring suddenly as he lifts the camera up.

It settles just to the side of Mercy’s face, so that the flush on her cheeks can be clearly seen, the glow on her brow as it furrows helplessly. She turns away in an effort to hide, golden locks plastered to her pale skin, teeth white where they bite into her rosy lip. But for all her attempts at coyness it’s not long before she’s moaning, teeth giving up their hold on her lip to let the sound free, low and oh so needy. The camera trembles as she drives her head against its leather rest, her blonde lashes fluttering as she moans and the vibrations rise in pitch and ferocity.

“Yes, good girl, good _girl_ ,” Junkenstein coos, the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of her cunt the only hint to what’s happening out of sight. But then, the video’s been generous enough up until now that it isn’t hard to picture it. And Mercy’s face is a perfect mirror, reflecting the pleasure he’s driving into her.

“Don’t be shy! Tell us how you feel, pet, before you’re too far gone.”

The muscles of her throat work as she swallows, and at first it seems she’ll keep her silence - or as close to it as she can with the gasps and moans which force themselves from her. But then, quietly…

“It… I--! I feel g-good!”

The Doctor croons his approval. “Yes! But come now, the devil’s in the _details_ , Mercy! Think of the _science_.”

Mercy jolts in time with his punctuated words, her own coming soft but with increasing desperation.

“S-so good, Doctor! So hot all over, and f-full, but--”

“But _what_?”

The buzzing reaches a fever pitch and Mercy cries out, the sound so loud after her quiet whimpers, brows knitted in pleasure as her voice cracks.

“M-more! I want more, Doctor, please!”

Junkenstein’s only reply is a deep, throaty laugh, but he must have delivered; Mercy’s lips stretch open in a silent scream, her eyes rolling back before her voice catches up to her and she wails, arching and shaking as if the devil himself stepped out of the details to possess her. Her cry is long and loud and sweet, stretching out until her voice quavers and breaks and her body slumps back into the chair. The camera stays on her even then, capturing the deep breaths she sucks in, the trembling of her brow and the hammering of her pulse in her pale throat.

When it finally drags downward between her legs, all four of the good Doctor’s fingers are thrust generously inside her cunt.

Junkenstein’s breaths come as ragged as Mercy’s as he pulls his fingers from her, without comment for the first time. He reaches to fiddle with something out of sight and suddenly one of Mercy’s legs drops, shaking, freed from its stirrup. The other joins it, and the butterfly vibe is tossed aside before the camera angles off, seemingly forgotten for once.

Then there’s the popping of buttons and a fumble and the camera turns, now resting where Mercy’s head had been on the newly reclined headrest, looking out as if from her point of view. But freed now from her bonds she slumps against Junkenstein, her arms flung weakly around his shoulders, legs drawn about his hips. He pulls her forward with a grunt, tucking his face into her neck as his hands slide beneath her ass, lifting her to reveal the thick shaft of his erect cock.

He groans against Mercy’s slick skin as he thrusts up, arms shifting to wrap around her, one hand bunching in her hair. He holds her in place as if to savour the heat of her thoroughly pleasured cunt, finally his to enjoy. Then he begins to bounce her, and she starts to moan in time, high and delirious, and he finds his voice again.

“ _Fuck_ , Mercy, _Mercy_ ! So good, waited so _long--_!”

He leans back, supporting her against his chest so that camera can capture every thrust of his cock up between her lips, jutting from between the open sides of his coat. With every meeting of their bodies sounds a low, lewd slapping.

“Is this full enough for you, pet?” He demands breathlessly. “Is my cock enough for you?”

Mercy’s reply is barely formed, half-words dying on her lips, only the staccato of her whimpers carrying through her delirium.

Junkenstein’s eyes flick up to the camera as if he’s suddenly recalling its presence. He grins wolfishly and steps closer, easing Mercy to sink back into the chair and reaching for it.

The next angle is of her cunt stretching around the his girth and his free hand splayed across her abdomen, thumb dragging her folds apart to reveal her clit. He thrusts in slowly, her cunt swallowing up all his inches until the wiry gold of his pubes press flush against her.

“Your greedy, _begging_ cunt, that none of my toys could satisfy,” he groans, dragging his hips back so that he can snap them forward again. He angles the camera up clumsily, showing how his hand grabs roughly at her tits, pinching her nipples. Beyond them Mercy’s big blue eyes are blown out beneath their lids, angled directly at the camera, features loose as she moans. Her hair has all spilled from her ponytail now - there’s no semblance of the professional young woman left in her as she splays out beneath him.

She lifts her gaze beyond the lens, pale brows knotted delicately and lips parting as she whimpers.

“Tell me how-- how does it feel, Doctor? Am I-- am I a good patient?”

“Oh my pet, my Mercy _yes_ ,” Junkenstein practically growls in response. “Your cunt is perfect, warm and tight! I know now why my toys couldn’t satisfy you. You were _made_ for my cock!”

He punctuates his words with hard thrusts, Mercy’s expression cycling through displays of ecstasy as his hips slap against her.

“Please, Doctor! Let me see!” She gasps, and then she’s reaching to take the camera from him, turning it up toward him. His lab coat has spread open, revealing the long lines of his tan body, catching every ripple of lean muscle as he pounds into her. Hands now free, he hikes one of her legs up, hugging her pale thigh to him so that he can twist her and thrust in even deeper, harder. His eyes are bright beneath his emotive brows and focus beyond the camera, his tongue poking out against his lower lip as he grins at Mercy.

“Come see then pet, watch me fill you up.”

The camera dips and there’s the meeting of her fair skin to his tanned, and nestled between them are her plump pink lips, spreading open with every movement of his cock. Junkenstein’s thrusts begin to speed up, rocking the camera, his grunts growing to staccato moans as he approaches his climax.

“Yes-- Mercy-- oh, _Mercy_ ,” the last groan of her name is almost a plea and the good Doctor buries himself deep inside her, crushing her against the leather seat as he cums. He roots himself and stays there, panting and whining as if Mercy’s milking him for every last drop. When he finally pulls out, a trail of sticky slick stretches out with him.

 

He takes the camera from Mercy with shaking hands and the last shot is of her cunt, satisfied at last and dripping with his load.

Angela curls to the side to make room for Jamie, who flops down beside her dramatically and squeezes his arm beneath her. She wriggles her way into his lap, kissing beneath his ear as he lets out a giddy laugh.

“Shit Ange, you were on fire. I’m totally knackered!”

“You’d better find your strength, I don’t think my legs work,” Angela replies with a laugh of her own, one which tapers off into a sigh as Jamie nudges her chin up for a kiss.

“Well then, I’d better get on that,” he grins against her lips, giving her one final, soft kiss before he holds the camera at arm’s length above them..

“We gonna do this then?”

Angela lets her head flop against Jamie’s shoulder, her smile so broad that it makes her face ache. Bizarrely it feels like the most personal thing she’s shared with the camera today.

“G’day cobbers! Hope you enjoyed our very first video!”

“And we hope to see you for the many more that are to come!” Angela chimes in.

“Cor, really got m’self a good one here didn’t I mates?” Jamie croons, _absolutely_ hamming it up now he’s out of character and tugging Angela against him as she barks a laugh.

“Follow us to see what I do with this hot piece of Swiss ass next!” He leans to smack at Angela’s butt and she lets out a pleased yelp. “And once we reach 1k subscribers on our onlyfans - link below - we’ll do something _extra special_ for ya.”

“One lucky subscriber will win a custom video,” Angela explains, her fingers splaying against Jamie’s chest. “You’ll get to choose our scenario, what toys we use and where we put them!” The last few words are accompanied by her fingers stepping their way down Jamie’s torso suggestively. He lets the camera follow them for a moment before snapping it back up, his eyebrows wiggling up and down as Angela bites back giggles beside him.

They crack up as one, the camera shaking with their laughter until they settle again.

“Ya can find links to all our accounts below. Thanks for watching mates!”

“And don’t forget to tell us what your favourite part was in the comments!”

Angela blows a kiss before Jamie switches the camera off again, finding the closest stable place to lay it so that he can free up his arm and cuddle her. Angela leans into him, tucking her head beneath his chin and closing her eyes. She can suffer being cold and sticky for a few more minutes if it means staying right where she is.

 

 


End file.
